Booking and Cooking--Leaving Time, The Collector, and my favorite comfort food

This weeks books were very good. Both 4 stars, and I couldn't choose between them which to review on my blog.

The first is Jodi Picoult's Leaving Time.

Jodi Picoult is a unique author in my experience. She is consistently inconsistent. What do I mean by that? She's kind of like the literary equivalent of Star Trek movies--every other one is amazing. I can't  continue the analogy and say that the others suck--they don't, but they are neither as engaging or captivating.

Fortunately for me, this is one of the good ones. The twist at the end really knocked me for a loop and while I started to wonder about something off in the middle, I was surprised.

Leaving time chronicles the adventures of thirteen year old Jenna Metcalf who has been searching for her mother, Alice. Along on her search is a washed-up psychic, Serenity Jones, and the cop who botched the case in the beginning, Virgil Stanhope. Woven throughout is Alice's obsession with elephants and how they live, love, and grieve.

I gave this book four stars.

I love Nora Roberts. I was anxiously awaiting this one's paperback release, but I found it in the library and couldn't resist. The Collector is about Lila Emerson who--Rear Window like--witnesses a murder from the apartment where she is house-sitting. The victim is the brother of Ashton Archer, artist from a wealthy family and when she meets with him sparks fly as they try to find why his brother was killed. Trailing them is the murderer.

This started slow, so slow that I was wondering if I should put it down and then we got a scene from the murder's POV and it started to gel.  I definitely recommend.


Cooking

It astounds me how often people think I don't like pasta or can't eat it when they hear I'm allergic to tomatoes. I love pasta. I eat tons.  Then people think, Oh, you like Macaroni and Cheese.  I do, but my favorite pasta sauce is one of my own creation.

I was living in England and my British Mum was making tomato sauce for pasta. She was caramelizing some onion and sautéing some garlic and realized that she didn't have canned (or fresh) tomatoes (Pronounced, of course, as to-mah-toes with the appropriate British Accent). She was going to throw it all out but I said I'd eat it and I did.

I added shredded cheese to it-and YUM!

I will make a picture post of it later. I suppose I am curious--what unusual things do you all eat?

More than the sum of my allergies

This Allergies are Bullshit article got me annoyed.

You see, I have food allergies.

But I've had them since the 1970's--before they were cool.

I am allergic to nuts (all of them), tomato, and seafood (all).  I literally don't know what it is like to go shopping and not check out a label. I've never had the luxury of trying a new food without asking what is in it. I remember when the Roy Rogers restaurant chain used to put peanut butter in their hamburgers. I know because I couldn't eat them.  The latest thing--fish oil in milk.  Yeah, milk with the Omega 3, that has fish oil in it. YUM!

 I've been very fortunate that my food allergies are such that ingesting food I am allergic to will ruin my week and not end my life, but that still means a few days where me and the toilet are best buds. It means a rash and scratching in places you don't want to itch.  It is not a fun scenario.

The woman in the article was upset when her oldest kid's school went nut-free. Now she has a youngest kid with a nut allergy. Now she gets it.

I remember another mother. I was at a friend's birthday party. They served pizza for the kids and something else for the adults. I don't remember what it was, except I could eat it. I remember I was about seven or eight years old. I told the birthday girl's mother that I was allergic to tomatoes. She dismissed it and said if I wanted to be picky, that was my own problem. I asked if I could have a small amount of what the grownups were having. She said no. She also was very firm on the fact that I couldn't have cake if I didn't have lunch. I wanted cake. I was seven or eight years old. I figured she was an adult and knew better so I had some pizza. I remember watching my hands break out. Every time I blinked I saw more hives on my hands. Another friend who was furious with all of this, dragged me to the mother and showed her my hands as they broke out in hives. My mom was called. She came to pick me up as I was eating my hard-won cake. Mom was beyond livid and I wasn't ever allowed to play at that girl's house again.  I often wonder if the mother in question thinks about me when she hears about food allergies, probably not.

I've heard the allergies are bullshit line before, and all I can think is--I wish.